Asylum
by blackvelvetwisteria
Summary: Before there was Forks there was a forest. But the forest held a dark secret only Aro remembers. And Aro only remembers because he was the victim...


Twenty years. Was that really how long it had been? Impossible. It had to be. I would never have allowed this hell to go on for so long. Would never have allowed my tormentors to live. Would never….. Well apparently I had. Apparently I hadn't even tried to fight. Oh how far I must have fallen, to not care what was done to me. I'd taken so much worse than this too.

Once, as a child, I'd thought that living meant pain. Now I knew better. That thought didn't help much. I didn't dare move. I wasn't planning on antagonizing my torturer. "Hold still, honey. I only need you for a little bit today, and if you're good we'll let you feed."

I gritted my teeth, staring at the buttonhook scalpel. It was meant to go under stitches without tearing them even slightly. Which meant she planned on going under my lobotomy scars. Or what were meant to be lobotomy scars. I'd healed from the damage they'd done, but the pain and disorientation wasn't something I'd forget anytime soon. As it was, I'd only finished healing mere hours ago. If she meant to knock me off balance again, it would be easy.

"If you scream then I put you under, but I'd much rather have you conscious." I bit my tongue, feeling the sharp point of the scalpel cut through the scab on the base of my head and into the bone. It burned, feeling the curve hook into my bone and pull. I didn't dare scream, but I wanted to. Only when They prodded my new wounds was I glad for a millennium of self-control.

I swallowed my scream, feeling the sharp point go over the channels of His most recent experiment. Not deep enough to re-create it, but deep enough to keep it open. I heard Her laugh. "Earnest actually did something right. The neurons are firing just the way he wants them too." I felt tears gather in my eyes from the pain. My vision was edging towards black. "Oh! Nope, you don't go under unless one of us puts you under." The black disappeared as she used her thumb to press down on my adrenal glands, pushing twice as much than was needed into my system to keep me awake. The pain seemed magnified because of it, and I felt the gash in my throat open up as I struggled not to scream in agony.

Bloody venom rushed up and I struggled to swallow it back down. It would lead to another round of drugs and surgeries to test my reactions if I puked. She pushed the scalpel in further, chuckling when I whimpered. I felt the burn evolve into a stabbing pain as she pulled it out. I could barely see now. I guessed She'd gone straight for the optic nerve, and had nearly severed it. "Good boy. Was that so hard, CB thirty six? Now open up." I did as I was told, letting her pour the rancid blood into my mouth. I swallowed greedily. How long had it been since they'd fed me? I felt her undo the restraints that held me in place and kept me from attacking her.

"Up. You get to walk back, aren't you happy?" I nodded. I didn't talk anymore. At first it was because of the stitches that held my vocal cords together. Now it was because I was terrified of what would happen if I tried. I still nodded, because they would break my legs if I seemed even slightly ungrateful. Because being able to stand was a gift here. My mental state, my ability to think and react, was a miracle.

I didn't breathe as I limped back to my cell. Because that's what it was. They called it sub-level thirty six, on account of it being the deepest underground. It was a labyrinth of of narrow corridors and sealed experimentation labs. I was the only person on the sub-level. Hence my designation of CB thirty six.

I passed through the thirty five other levels to get to my own. I did my best to ignore the screams and pleas of the others. Did my best to not see the broken beings or weeping, infected bodies of the tortured. I couldn't tune out the feeling though. The heavy oppression of the hopeless, of the desperate wishing for an end, any end. There was hope too, from the newer victims. The hatred in those who hadn't been broken yet, who didn't know that cooperation would save them. I hated it.

"Mama help! Don't let him get me, Mama, please! Please help me! Someone, please!" I felt sick. I knew that voice. It belonged to a little girl no older than seven named Sarah. Her mother and father both worked here, as assistants to the head doctor. Why were they allowing this? Why would they allow this torture on their daughter?

"Hold still Sarah, honey. It'll be okay, I promise." That was her fathers voice, calm and cold. "Sarah, you need to calm down. The doctor doesn't want to hurt you." I knew that voice. It was His voice, the voice of my tormenter.

The perks of cooperation meant I walked back to my cell alone. So there was no one to push me along when I stopped in front of the examination hall where she was. I peeked my head around the doorframe cautiously. I could see well enough for this. I quickly wished I couldn't. She was strapped to a metal table, her little hands bound down by thick belts, her pretty brown braids laying on the floor while her mother cut her hair, preparing her for experiment number twelve. I nearly puked again. I remembered experiment number twelve. It was a psychological experiment, meant to make the mind turn on itself.

Her mother put the scissors down and placed a metal restraint across her forehead. I turned away as the doctor slid a needle in just below her ear. I couldn't watch what happened next. My nails bit into my palms as I did my best to keep my composure. Tears fell fast from my nearly blind eyes as I heard her pleas morph into shrieks of pain. She screamed for her parents to save her from whatever her mind was showing her, and I could hear the shifting of the belts as she thrashed.

I nearly lost it then, listening to her scream. How could anyone allow this to be done to a child? "She's perfect for this experiment. Thank you so much for volunteering her." I turned on my heel and ran. This was wrong, so wrong and horrible and twisted. I pushed at the door to the stairs and ran to my cell. I wrenched the door open and collapsed inside, safe for now.

Shuddering sobs wracked my body as I cried, leaning my head back against the wall. I didn't bother to scream anymore, it meant nothing. I stared at my wrists, the recent marks from my routine check still visible even to my ruined eyes. My head felt like it was going to explode. I wrapped my right hand around my left wrist, always had to remind myself, left and right, lest I lose them, and tightened my grip until I was sure the bone would break.

I relished the feel of it, of pain that I could control. I focused on it until it was all I could think of. My breathing evened out as my sobs quieted. Like clockwork then, my father's voice sounded in my head, Pathetic, wretched, useless thing. How dare you cry? How dare you think you control your own pain? The stabbing burn in my head doubled. It always did, just when I calmed down. When I felt even slightly in control, I lost any ground I gained. "I want to go home. I just want to go home." The plea was whispered.

Thoma's voice added in to my father's jeers. How could anyone love you when this is all you are? A weak, vile, ugly thing. How could you think I loved you? My tears, which had stopped for the brief break I was given, came back in full force as I felt my heart tear in two. The pain that came from the betrayal of my first love wasn't new, and yet this felt like it.

I tightened the grip on my wrist, bring me out of this hell, relying on the physical to pull me out of the dark of my mind. The burn lessened, and I gasped in relief. I tried desperately to get a grip on my sobs. If I could retreat into the back of my head it wouldn't hurt. Nothing hurt in the blankness of my head. But I couldn't access it, and I gave up. " Home. I just want to go home." My mantra now, it was the only tie I had left on my sanity.

Gentle footsteps caught my attention. I straightened up as best I could, wiping my tears away. I watched the door carefully, terrified of who was down here with me. No one ever was. "Aro?" It took me a few seconds to register my name, and slightly longer before my vocal recognition kicked in. Caius. Caius's voice. I froze. No. No, it wasn't him. It couldn't be. Even so, the door opened slowly, carefully. I curled closer into my corner, turning my head toward the wall, toward the dark.

A gentle touch to my hair, a small tug. I knew that touch. I loved that touch. That touch had held me and kept me safe for a thousand years. Blinking, willing my eyes to clear up and heal, I raised my head. And found myself staring straight into the horrified, heartbroken face of my mate. "Aro…. What have they done to you?" I just stared. He was here. He was truly here. I raised a shaking hand to touch his cheek. Be real. Please be real.

He was. His skin was solid under my touch, not dissipating the way it normally did in one of my hallucinations. "It's time to come home, my love. Can you walk?" I marveled at the sound of his voice. It had been so long since I'd last heard it. Wait, he's asked me something. Oh, right. I shook my head. I could, but I didn't trust my legs.

He tilted his head, his bright white hair falling across his face and onto my hand. "I think you're lying. I think you just don't want to walk. I think you want to be lazy. After all, you walked down here after She was done with you." My eyebrows knitted in confusion. How did he know that? He tightened his grip painfully, pulling my hair in earnest. I gasped in pain as he pulled on my stitches.

"You lied to me, didn't you? You probably love it here, love the attention they pay you." His sweet voice ran cold with poisoned honey. "I bet you don't even miss me. Do you?" I whimpered, not understanding. He put his hand over my wrist and crushed the bone. "You are the most selfish little cunt on the planet, you know that? You probably didn't even try to escape." He stood and walked out, only to come back a second later holding a wickedly curved knife in one hand and a white hot brand in the other.

I pressed back into my corner again, wishing it was deeper and I could run. He regarded me with icy, emotionless eyes. I knew that look, I'd seen it so often when he tortured an enemy. But I'd never had it directed at me, and I quickly realized I loathed it. His expression changed to one I knew well, gentle and loving. His eyes shone. He knelt, putting the knife down and shifting the poker.

"Aro darling. You don't need to be scared anymore. I promise, no one is hurting you ever again." I eyed the poker skeptically. "These aren't for you, love. I thought maybe you'd like a weapon if we were going to get out of here. Please believe me. You've suffered enough." A lump formed in my throat. I uncurled from my ball and crawled over to him. He pulled me gently into a hug. I burst into tears, sobbing into his shoulder. "Hush love. Your nightmare is over now."

I clung to him as tightly as I could. "I love you." The first words I'd truly spoken in decades seemed like the most important. He smiled. "I know. But," He shifted me so I was facing him "Did it ever occur to you I don't love you?" I choked on my tears. I'd been through so much….

I felt, as though from a distance, the sharp bite of the knife into my palm. I looked down at it, seeing the word loveless carved in Hebrew. Venom leaked out of the cuts as he retraced them. He pulled at the rags I wore, tearing them off my arms. "You forgot the lessons you learned when you were human. Now I'm going to make sure you can't forget them ever again." I tried to pull away from him, and he held tighter. "If you don't squirm it won't hurt so much."

I went numb, watching as he carved every last one of my father's epithets into my skin. I ignored the tears streaming from my eyes, hating myself for them. Weak. It was weak, and I should have been stronger. I should have been able to fight. But I couldn't. They almost never fed me, and when they did there was so little nutrients that it didn't make a difference. I'd been malnourished and abused as a human. The vemon had done little to change that.

He looked at me, once he was done. Those beautiful vermillion eyes held no warmth. I found myself praying it was over. But of course it wasn't. Not even caring, he reached for the poker and placed it against my palm, burning the word onto me. I screamed. All I had endured, and this broke me. His eyes snapped up to my face. I flinched away. I knew not to scream by now.

"Well that's one rule broken. How should I punish you for that?" He didn't bother thinking about it, just shoved me down, grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled as hard as he could. My scream echoed back off the empty halls. He used his leverage to flip me onto my stomach, pushing me down into the cold concrete. Harsh fingers wormed between my legs, circling my entrance. I thrashed in his grip , wanting to get away. That only only prompted him to move faster. I felt a sudden, harsh burn between my legs as he pushed in. He fucked me ruthlessly, not caring about my feeble attempts to push him away. When he finally finished I could feel venom dripping out of the mess he'd made of my ass.

I didn't bother trying to fight, and I bit back my screams of agony as he burned every word into me. I didn't try to understand, couldn't allow myself to think about what had happened to me. I registered dimly that he'd finished and left. I curled into a ball, weeping silently. My emotions were everywhere and the last edge of my sanity frayed almost through. My only comfort was knowing that it wasn't real. It had felt so real, but I forced myself not to believe it. That wasn't my Caius. It wasn't. I clung to that thought as stubbornly as I could. It did nothing to stop my tears. "Home." I whispered against the blackness of my cell. "I want to go home."

Outside of the door to Aro's cell stood a tall, brown haired man. He was clean shaven and had sparkling brown eyes. In his hands he held a clipboard with the words CB THIRTY SIX across the top. Ana had told him that his neuron experiment had finally taken hold, and he'd come down to check. A small prompt from the remote in his hands had activated the liquid control chip in CB thirty six's head. He smiled, shutting the chip off to allow his experiment his rest. As the breathing in the cell evened out, Dr. Earnest Brookhaven, the owner of Brookhaven Asylum Hospital, made a small note at the bottom of the clipboard: Experiment Twelve still active, holding up despite other mental and physical strains. Use more often on non-compliant patients. Smiling to himself, he walked quietly toward the stairs. It was time to go check on Sarah.


End file.
